“He works out,” she sang in this quiet, high-pitched tone. I recognized the song she was mimicking, and I couldn’t stop the strained laugh that came out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” she said, her cheeks growing rosy as she gave an awkward shrug. “I get weird when I’m nervous.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?” I asked innocently, flexing my pecs. Her eyes were fixed on my chest as I flexed both at the same time, then the left side, then the right. Back and forth. Left and right.

The giggle that burst out of her mouth was the best sound ever, so I kept doing it until she was full-out laughing.

“What?” I asked, watching her as she tried to keep a straight face and failed. “Is something funny?”

“Stop,” she said, wheezing.

“Stop what?” I asked in mock confusion, pausing for a moment before flexing my left pec over and over so it looked as if it were jumping.

“You’re crazy,” she said, laughter in her voice. She fell back on the bed, giggling.

I walked over and crawled on top of her, bracing myself on my hands and knees as I looked down at her.

“Still nervous?” I asked.

“Not even a little,” she replied. She leaned up as I leaned down, and when our lips met, it was all over for me.

I tried to keep my frantic hands from moving over her too quickly, but I knew I wasn’t succeeding. I wanted to touch her everywhere at once. The smooth skin of her thighs, the bend of her knee, the fragile lines of her collarbone, and the spot right under her ribs that swooped inward to her waist—I wanted it all.

Her hands weren’t still, either. Her nails scraped up my back as we kissed, pressed against the muscles of my arms, gripped my ass as she pulled me down until we were as close as we could possibly get with our underwear still on.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I murmured, running my lips over the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck. It sounded like a line, like something that was easily said in the heat of the moment, but I meant every word.

I reached behind her and unclasped her bra, and without giving me time to pull it off, she yanked it down her arms. It got tangled between us for a second and I smiled, but then I was pretty sure that my mouth dropped open in awe when I saw her breasts for the first time. Her hands went to cover them, and my gaze shot to her face, but it wasn’t nervousness or hesitation that made her press her fingers into that delicate skin. It was arousal, pure and simple. I’d been staring too long, so she’d touched them herself.